


The Road to Hell is Paved in Evil Intentions, But Not Evil Deeds, Since You Didn't Actually Live Long Enough to Do Any, So- Did You Really Deserve it? I Mean, Like, Probably, Right?

by Draikinator



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Discussions of grooming and abuse, Gen, I think hawkfrost is a character made of wasted potential, spoilers for arc 4, third person, this is not hawkivy if you come here for romantic hawkivy I hate you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draikinator/pseuds/Draikinator
Summary: Hawkfrost is Ivypaw's mentor, and one day, he realizes that the manipulation he's using against her is something he was taught a long time ago.





	The Road to Hell is Paved in Evil Intentions, But Not Evil Deeds, Since You Didn't Actually Live Long Enough to Do Any, So- Did You Really Deserve it? I Mean, Like, Probably, Right?

Hawkpaw landed with a thump, panting, his legs trembling with the effort it took even to remain standing after so many hours of training. He dug his claws into the soft earth to stabilize himself as he looked up at his father show as watching him with half closed eyes.

“How was that, Tigerstar?” He asked, needing.

“You’re still letting your hind legs droop at the apex of your jump,” he chided, “If you don't keep them up, you’ll lose your grip the second you land. Do it again.”

Hawkpaw deflated instantly, his pride leaving him in a rush along with his drive to continue.

“Oh,” he said, his shoulders sagging.

His father eyed him for a moment, before he smiled, a rarity for him. “Praise won easily is worthless, Hawkpaw. It will all be worth it, when you are the greatest warrior your clan has ever known, won't it?”

“Yeah!” Hawkpaw said, reinvigorated, and he stood up straight.

Tigerstar's smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Good. Now try it again.”

 

* * *

 

Hawkfrost watched his apprentice move with careful eyes. This wasn't a complicated maneuver, but she still wasn't getting it right. Every time she jumped, she was landing hind legs first- any adversary worth their whiskers the would shake her off like a buzzing gnat and not a trained Dark Forest warrior.

“How was that, Hawkfrost?” Ivypaw panted as she looked back up at him with her bright blue eyes, glimmering with pride and passion. Her legs were shaking from spending her entire night practicing, her chest heaving with exertion.

“You’re still letting your hind legs droop at the apex of your jump,” he said, with a shake of his head, “If you don't keep them up, you’ll lose your grip the second you land. Do it again.”

Her shoulders sagged and her eyes darkened as she looked at the ground. “Oh,” she said

He eyed her carefully, seizing her up. It would do her no good to be discouraged now- she wasn't much of a warrior yet, but as long as she kept doing it, she'd get it eventually, and the Dark Forest needed meat shields to throw at the clan cats before the real Warriors entered the fray. They couldn't afford to lose their greatest asset- foolish cats willing to betray their own clans for the praise of dead cats like him

“Praise won easily is worthless, Ivypaw. It will all be worth it, when you are the greatest warrior your clan has ever known, won't it?”

“Yeah!” Ivypaw said as she surged back up to try again.

A cold chill washed over Hawkfrost as his own words echoed back in his dark heart, and he realized with the force of being struck by a thunderpath monster that, as hollow as they were- they were familiar.

 

* * *

 

“No, maggots, get your claws out! Stop fighting like kits and let's see you really draw some blood!” Mapleshade roared, her orange fur transparent in the darkness and yet still bright, like a distant flame. “No enemy will be so gentle on the battlefield. If you practice in fights where everyone ensures eachother safety, then you'll never be prepared for a fight where no one ensures your own. This isn't the nursery, it's war. Let's get one of you over her- Ivypaw! You’re looking scrawnier than usual. Get up here.”

Ivypaw jolted, her eyes terrified. Mapleshade was lying- Ivypaw was looking stronger and stronger every day, her muscles taut beneath her fur, a tiny killing machine that didn't even have a warrior name yet. She stood to accept the challenge.

“Sit down, Ivypaw,” Hawkfrost said, without raising his voice. Mapleshade whipped her head around to sneer at him, “Ivypaw had her claws unsheathed the whole time. She's had better training than some of the worms sitting next to her. Harepaw,” her said, his icy gaze flicking to the brown and white spotted Windclan Tom, “You kept your claws sheathed and your ankles loose. It was pathetic, and you need a real fight.”

Mapleshade’s smile widened, obviously pleased, and he knew she didn't care whether he was favouring his own apprentice or not. She just liked terrorizing the children- not that she wasn't exceptionally good at it. Mapleshade could terrorize just about anyone she wanted.

Ivypaw sat back down, shooting him a grateful look. He turned away to watch the fight.

 

* * *

 

Tigerstar had seated himself on the branch of a dead tree to watch the training below. Hawkfrost stared at him, unblinking. He hadn't been asked to join him.

His father had killed many cats during his life. Some who probably deserved it, some who probably didn't, but that was how the world worked. He'd never managed to kill anyone himself- not that he hadn't tried, but he couldn't ignore the fact that he had never succeeded.

What truly what must one do to be denied rest in Starclan? Killers were often allowed in their ranks. Was the Dark Forest the land of cruel intentions or cruel deeds? Had he wanted to come here, and that's all there was to it?

His father never looked at him from where he was perched.

 

* * *

 

“Go home,” Hawkfrost said.

“What?” Asked Ivypool, “Why?”

“I saw your border scuffle today. You’re too exhausted to be any good at training tonight. Just go back to your best and sleep.” He glanced back at the treeline. No other cats were skulking near enough to overhear, as far as he could tell.

“You aren't my mentor anymore,” Ivypool said, “I’m here to train my own apprentices now.”

“I know,” he scoffed, “I’m not telling you to leave as your mentor, I’m telling you as a clanmate. You’ll be useless this evening and no good to anyone if you don't recover your strength. Just go.”

Ivypool eyed him with a look that made him worried she suspected he cared about her- which she should know by now he didn’t- a Dark Forest Warrior like him, or her, cared only for power.

“Thanks, Hawkfrost,” she said, and he rolled his eyes. She turned back the way she’d come, to her own dreamless slumber and away from the edge of the black trees of his home he watched for eavesdroppers like his namesake.

 

* * *

 

Battle raged around him, a sound he'd come to associate with home, but he wasn't home now. He was in the waking world, and the battle was real, now. It was clan cats and Starclan fighting the Dark Forest and their trainees, and Hawkfrost found himself fighting a war he didn't care about the outcome of.

He grabbed a scrawny Windclan she-cat by the scruff and hauled her off of Snowtuft, who'd always been kind of pathetic, throwing her like a mossball across the battlefield and into one of her allies. She went tumbling into the mud with a gasp and he stalked after her, feeling no need to run, his claws unsheathed.

This war meant nothing to him. Who cared about his worthless father’s vengeance? It wasn't like Tigerstar had ever cared what he wanted. He’d just been another trainee to lie to, another set of claws for the cause. But he was here now, and he'd made his choices, and he was no coward. He was going to live up to his reputation for no one but himself, at least.

He bared his fangs with a ferocious caterwaul and the Windclan cat’s eyes widened in terror and she froze in the mud, staring up at his gleaming jaws as he reared up to grab her throat, and-

And something barrelled into him with a snarl.

He sunk his claws into his attacker and let himself go with the fall, throwing his far greater weight into the motion so that he took the other cat with him into a barrel roll that put him beneath them, then bunched his hind legs up under their belly and kicked with all his might, throwing them off of himself.

It was Harespring. One of the Dark Forest Trainees.

“You idiot,” Hawkfrost spat, “we’re on the same side!”

“No, we’re not!” Harespring shrieked at him, his mouth wrinkling around the scars that littered his muzzle, “How could you ever have thought I would turn against my true clanmates?! How could you ever have deluded yourself so much that you thought I would kill my own people?!”

“You really _are_ an idiot,” Hawkfrost spat, “Did you think I wouldn't rip your guts out for betraying us?” He shifted his weight onto his stronger front legs to throw himself forward, when a sound stopped him.

“Hawkfrost!” A familiar voice screamed over the din of battle. Her voice was deep, raspy, strengthened by a life of screaming and roaring and endless training, and he would know it anywhere. He turned ever so to look at her, and from her stance, he could tell she and that idiot Harespring were on the same side against him. He completely forgot about that worm and focused on her.

Her stared at her, her chest heaving. She was soaked in blood, her ears shredded more than usual, a massive clawmark across her face. She’d already been in a fight with someone.

Would he fight her? She'd betrayed him. But unlike him, she was choosing a future she wanted, not one to impress an idiot who had used and abused her for his own gain.

She snarled at him, claws unsheathed. He wrinkled his nose. He could probably kill her. Probably. Perhaps not, though- he had trained her himself, and she was different from the other clan cats his kind had trained. She held nothing in reserve. She had killed Antpelt- torn his throat out. She had taken a life, while the closes the had ever come to taking a life was how he had taken hers from her.

He sheathed his claws and stood, passive, making it clear in his body language he had no intention to fight her. Every cat on this battlefield was pathetic, worthless- but he’d practically raised her, and he'd done a terrible job of it. He'd taken enough from her, and he wasn't going to take any more.

She stared at him in obvious confusion, and he almost smiled because it was very nearly worth not killing her just to see how confused she was that he wasn't going to- then Tigerstar slammed into her from the side, unexpectedly, and they went tumbling into the blood soaked mud with a pair of roars.

Now, Tigerstar. Tigerstar could definitely kill her.

He didn't even feel his feet moving. Without even his conscious instruction they threw himself forward and into his father, tackling him off her Ivypool, his claws burying themselves in the other’s tightly coiled muscles, his hind legs churning at his fur as fury raced through his nonexistent veins.

“Coward!” Tigerstar shrieked at him, “I always knew you were the weakest link! Too pathetic to kill your own pathetic brother, too pathetic to ever follow through on anything!” His father howled, and Hawkfrost moved to bury his fangs in the tabby's throat, only for all the air in his body to leave him in a huff as he was kicked away and slammed into a tree trunk.

Everything felt like fire, and he was sure that if he had been alive that would have snapped his spine like a twig. He raised his head, blearily, to see Tigerstar stalking toward him, and just behind him, Ivypool, bunching up her hind legs to throw herself on his father.

“Ivypool, you idiot!” He screamed, and she froze. He dragged himself to his feet and leapt on Tigerstar, who reared up to meet him, “Run back to your idiot clanmates!”

She stared at him, flabberghasted, and he hissed at her, and without another moment of hesitation, she turned on her heels and bolted, disappearing into the fray.

He had but a moment to feel an overwhelming sense of pride, before teeth crunched down on his throat, and he didn't feel anything, anymore.


End file.
